


Light The Way (And I'll Follow)

by Lost_And_Insane



Series: Spirk One-Shots [5]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Near Death, Short Story, Strangers to Lovers, Vulcan Mind Melds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-14 07:17:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19268419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_And_Insane/pseuds/Lost_And_Insane
Summary: Spock had never tried it himself, but knew it was possible through stories and experiences from the Vulcan Elders, and as he moved to Kirk’s side he pushed back all uncertainty—this was the only option they had to save the captain’s life.“My strength to yours. My will to yours,” he muttered ever so quietly, reminding himself of what he was doing. He focused on not intruding into Kirk’s mind, instead only allowing the bond to offer him strength and project reassurance; he could hear Kirk’s breathing even out.“Spock?”“I’m here, captain.”





	1. Chapter 1

“ _First Officer’s Log, Stardate 1312.4. A week has passed since Pike’s departure. So far, there’s no denying James T. Kirk’s success in commanding the crew. The Enterprise is running smoother than expected; after Pike’s relieve from duty, the ship’s functionality has only decreased by 4% compared to the usual 7% following a change in captaincy._

“ _Not only is this unexpected, but I must admit it’s interesting. I’ve been Pike’s first officer for years and have always commended him for being one of Starfleet’s best, but even he had not managed such a prosperous transition after being promoted to captain._

“ _We’ve passed the first few missions of the Enterprise, which were unproblematic democratic meetings and supply runs. It’s standard regulation, of course; a test to see whether this crew can function smoothly with Captain Kirk now in charge. Naturally, we’ve managed to avoid disasters, and the Enterprise is now officially back on active duty._

“ _I have.. purposefully steered away from the new captain thus far. Of course, my role as first officer has remained so I am present on the bridge when required, but I prefer to spend time in the Enterprise’s science labs, performing my duties as the ship’s science officer. It has been my main focus ever since Pike has departed.”_

_-_

Spock had met the new captain already. Pike had been the one to introduce the two, knowing they would end up serving together in the near future, and Spock found there was nothing unpleasant about the man. He was young for a captain, but a captaincy at 29 was not unheard of; it was only slightly disconcerting that there were very few years between the two.

“Your record is very impressive,” Kirk had said upon their meeting. “I look forward to serving with you.”

It seemed Kirk had done research on his crew. As Pike had explained to him through a call on his personal computers, Kirk thoroughly looked through the list of crew members before coming aboard, from his bridge crew to the ensigns that were serving here temporarily. Pike had been a social captain as well, often making more small-talk with his primary crew than Spock was comfortable with, but Captain Kirk was different. It seemed he wanted to know _everyone_ aboard the Enterprise, no matter their rank and connection to the ship. It was an admirable goal, yet Spock couldn’t quite see the relevance in knowing about an ensign that was set to leave in a few months. Surely there was a better way for a captain to spend his time.

Yet clearly, it was working.

Not a single member of the crew had something negative to say about Captain Kirk. Quite the opposite was true—ensigns and commanders alike praised the new captain on his ability to run the ship, even though he’d only been captain for a few weeks. Spock had never seen anything like it.

It had been two months now, and Spock was no closer to finding out what made the new captain so likeable. Although to be honest, he hadn’t really made any attempt to find out.

Spock had once again retreated to the Enterprise’s science lab and was doing research on an interesting anomaly the captain had found on one of their supply runs. The Vulcan had volunteered to lead the research team, resulting in him staying in the laboratory until late at night because he wanted to be able to report back to the Captain at 0800 hours as was once habitual with Pike. However, he had not expected this anomaly to be quite as complicated as it was.

Every time Spock thought to have solved the mysteries surrounding the anomaly, something was out of place; there was something different about it that the Vulcan could not pinpoint exactly. He would never admit it out loud, but he could feel frustration bubbling up inside him, getting worse each time a scan came out negative. He had his human mother to blame for that, Spock thought. Nevertheless, he was determined to finish this research tonight, even if that meant being a bit more emotionally uncontrolled than during the day.

Spock had been so focused on his work that he hadn’t heard the sound of the door sliding open, nor the sound of footsteps approaching him. It was when he heard his name that he was alerted to the person’s presence.

“Mr. Spock.” It was unmistakably the voice of the new captain. “I thought I’d find you here.”

Spock didn’t turn to look at Kirk, his eyes still focused on the console in front of him.

80%

90%

100%

**No match.**

There was the frustration again. Spock suppressed a sigh and finally turned to face Kirk, giving him a nod. “Captain. I assume you are here to check on my progress.”

“That’s a wrong assumption,” Kirk said calmly, causing Spock to raise an eyebrow. The Vulcan waited for him to elaborate, but the captain just stayed quiet, glancing past Spock to his work station.

“Then what is the purpose of your visit?” Spock asked after a short while. The only times Pike had been in the science lab was to stay updated on the results, and to make sure everything was running smoothly. There was no other need for a captain to be present in the science labs.

Kirk looked back to the Vulcan and smiled at him. “I’m here to check on you.”

It was definitely an unexpected response. Spock carefully searched his captain’s expression for any sign of jest, but Kirk was smiling gently as ever, hands folded behind his back.

“Listen, Mr. Spock,” Kirk started. “I know that you were close with Cap– with Admiral Pike, and I don’t expect you to see me in the same light as him.”

“Pike was an admirable captain,” Spock responded simply, negating to mention that as a Vulcan, he did not feel closeness to Pike like a Terran would.

“He was, and he’s left big shoes to fill. I can only hope that you give me a chance to get to know you as well as he does,” Kirk said.

Spock silently gaped at his new captain for a moment longer, once again finding himself surprised at the man’s words. He was so straight-forward, yet unpredictable; he didn’t speak like any Starfleet captain he knew.

“I was under the impression that you already read my file before your transfer,” Spock said, to which Kirk instantly shook his head.

“That’s not what I mean. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling that you’ve been avoiding me ever since I became captain,” Kirk said. His voice held no malice, only curiosity.

“I have been performing all my duties on the bridge and in the science lab, as I am both first officer and the Enterprise’s main science officer,” Spock stated matter-of-factly, and Kirk smiled knowingly. He finally unfolded his hands from behind his back, only to clasp them back together in front of him in an almost childish gesture.

“Yet I also know you’re trying to spend as little time with me as possible while doing so.” Kirk was still looking at Spock with a knowing smile; he wasn’t spiteful in his accusation. “I value the relationship with my crew, and that includes you.”

Spock bit back a remark about his Vulcan nature and how Terran relationships were not his strong suit, instead choosing to remain silent. He knew the captain was right in his accusation, but was surprised that Kirk had chosen to confront him about it, rather than just accepting the fact that a close friendship with a Vulcan would never happen.

“I heard you’re quite the chess aficionado,” Kirk said suddenly. Spock had no idea how the captain could possibly know of Spock’s occasional habit to play chess against the ship’s computer, as he wasn’t even certain if Pike had known about it. “Care to play against your captain some time?”

Spock hesitated for only a moment before agreeing mostly out of politeness.

Kirk waited a moment but—after not getting any further response from his first officer—eventually walked over to look at the console at which Spock had been working. The only things displayed on the screen were failed scans and a bunch of wrongly written studies. Spock averted his gaze to avoid Kirk’s reaction, pretending to read through his PADD.

However, when the Vulcan looked back up, Kirk did not hold an expression of dissatisfaction like the Vulcan had expected. Instead, the young captain had a small smile on his face and the knowing look in his eyes had returned once more.

He patted Spock on the shoulder and the Vulcan surprised himself by not moving away, “How about you call it a night and continue tomorrow?”

“Is that an order?” Spock asked.

“No,” Kirk answered honestly. “It’s friendly advice. And I suggest you take it.”

With that, Kirk gave Spock another smile before heading back towards the door. When he was about to walk outside, the captain stopped and turned around. “I want this report at the end of the week. Don’t even think about trying to hand it in tomorrow,” he said, his smile growing. “And that _is_ an order. Goodnight, Mr. Spock.”

When the doors had closed behind Kirk and Spock was once again alone in the room, he looked back at his console and slowly turned it off, his frustration gone and replaced with a feeling Spock couldn’t quite place. He did, however, feel a smile tug at the corner of his lips as he made his way towards his quarters. Kirk’s captaincy could be very interesting indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

“ _First Officer’s Log, Stardate 1367.5. The Enterprise has received her first official mission after Pike’s departure, a mission which is still deemed safe for a reasonably new crew; as save as going to a mostly unexplored planet can be. I have, surprisingly, been assigned as part of the away team. It is most illogical to have both the captain and first officer sent on the same away mission, and I made sure to mention this to the captain a moment ago. Captain Kirk, however, only smiled and agreed with me before putting us both on the away team anyway._

“ _We must prepare to beam down in precisely two point six hours. The captain has decided on a collection of ensigns to take with us. It is a wise decision, as this mission will be an excellent way for them to gain experience._

“ _We only have to investigate whether this planet a safe territory for a colony to live; beam down, take a few readings, and report back to Starfleet. The planet has already been reported as a class M planet many years ago, so we only have to confirm that fact; I am not expecting any difficulties. Many see the mission as incredibly boring, including the captain, but I find there’s nothing unpleasant about a change in environment, and I can possibly discover another anomaly to write a report on.”_

_-_

Spock finished taking a sample of water from the river. He looked back to where his captain stood, talking to a member of the away team with a concentrated look on his features. For his first time captaining a ship, he’d been very confident and prosperous so far, and now that a few weeks had passed after Pike’s departure, the crew had managed to stabilize and correct the few inconsistencies that followed the change in captaincy.

After Kirk’s unexpected visit to the science labs, Spock had become more interested in Kirk’s way of captaining the ship. After asking around, Spock had gathered that Kirk was already familiar with most crew members on the Enterprise, as he’d been commissioned on many other ships in his past. In fact, Kirk had already climbed through so many different ranks and positions that even some older captains didn’t have as much experience as him.

Naturally, his familiarity with most of the crew worked as an advantage, and it explained part of why he’d been so likeable from the start. When Pike had first come aboard the ship, everyone in the crew had been a new face to him, apart from Spock himself. Building a trusting relationship with strangers was much more difficult than building one with old friends.

However, Spock had been a stranger to Kirk, yet even the Vulcan couldn’t deny the slight pull he felt towards his new captain.

Spock checked the time and realized he should report back to Kirk about his findings thus far. With his PADD in hand, he made his way back towards Kirk, “Captain, a moment?”

Kirk quickly gave the lieutenant in front of him orders to check in with McCoy after they’d beamed back to the ship, and then turned around to smile at his first officer. Kirk smiled very often, Spock had realized.

“Mr. Spock. Any interesting findings?”

No matter how often Spock told his captain that the honorific was not necessary, Kirk seemed to ignore his request entirely. It annoyed him more than he was willing to admit.

“I found this unknown form of radiation near the river. I’ve completed multiple scans, but we have nothing similar to it in our system’s database,” Spock explained, holding out the PADD in front of him. “It does not appear to be dangerous, but it vanishes after every attempted scan.”

Kirk looked thoughtful for a short moment, seemingly searching his mind for what to do. The Captain then nodded a couple of times and his smile returned to his face.

“Well spotted, Mr. Spock. I say we report back to Starfleet for further orders,” he said, reaching out to grab the PADD. His fingers brushed against Spock’s own and at that moment, it felt to the Vulcan as if some sort of spark shot through his body and mind. A few more seconds to prepare himself would’ve done the trick, but no such seconds had been granted to him; he had no time to shield himself.

Just as preparing for a mind meld required time and concentration, so did setting one’s shields against such communication. In other words, he could momentarily feel Kirk’s emotions (boredom; anticipation; determination) and, perhaps more importantly, he was certain Kirk was able to sense Spock’s emotions as well. It had left this feeling of.. something. Spock didn’t know what to call it. It most certainly wasn’t embarrassment because that was an irrational human emotion that he had long learned to suppress.

Spock instantly withdrew his hand, but it was already too late; the meld had already happened. The PADD fell in the mud at their feet with a soft thud.

There was a moment of silence as Spock looked at his hand in obvious confusion, trying to figure out what had just happened. Spock knew for certain that he’d started a mind meld, but that was illogical – the Vulcan had barely touched Kirk, let alone tried to start a mind meld with him. Nevertheless, in the second of contact between them Spock and Kirk had briefly bonded telepathically.

Kirk must’ve felt the bond too, but he didn’t look bothered by it, instead looking slightly amused.

Spock found himself speechless. He picked up the PADD from the ground, the device not damaged but slightly covered with dirt, and wordlessly handed it to Kirk again, this time careful to avoid any kind of touch with him.

“Are you alright?” Kirk asked, regarding the Vulcan with a smile.

“I apologize, I do not know why that happened,” Spock said, finally finding words. “I didn’t…”

Kirk laughed softly. “Don’t worry about it, Spock.”

The two just regarded each other for a long moment, Kirk being the first to break eye contact.

“Alright, everyone regroup! We’re getting ready to beam up.”


	3. Chapter 3

“ _First Officer’s Log, Stardate 1381.5. Duties on the Enterprise resume as usual. The captain has made the call to return to Spacedock, as the Enterprise’s engines seem to be underperforming. Refer to the Chief Engineer’s Log.”_

_-_

It was safe to say that after the accidental mind meld, Spock was more attentive to his distance from the captain. Whenever the two were in the same room, Spock kept a respectful distance from Kirk (and if said distance was slightly more than respectful, he told himself it was just a precaution).

Spock hadn’t attempted a mind mild with anyone since he was a child; in fact, his last attempt at one was back when he lived on Vulcan and his father had insisted he master it. He said ‘attempt’ because, as a half-human hybrid, Spock had never quite managed to learn how to control his emotions during a meld. They easily became overwhelming, and so Spock preferred to avoid attempting them all-together.

The fact that he had started a meld with only a brief touch of hands was highly illogical. Mind melds took practice and concentration, and as someone who’d never mastered them, one shouldn’t have started so easily; Spock had no explanation for it and it bothered him.

And so, Spock had decided that he should maintain his distance from Kirk once more. He’d been careless enough to start a mind meld with his captain, regardless of how short it lasted, and mind melds weren’t a common thing for Vulcans to attempt. It was considered a sizeable breach of privacy and was often only used in a last effort attempt to give or receive information. If Spock had started one with Kirk so freely, it was a sign that he was getting too attached to him in one way or the other, and it was time to go back to a purely professional feeling towards his captain.

However, Spock had long learned that Captain Kirk was a particularly stubborn human.

Spock had attempted to back out of their now habitual chess matches, often with the statement that he had a certain report or experiment to finish in the science labs, but Kirk wasn’t one to give up easily. He simply rescheduled every single match until Spock could no longer find anything to get him out of it; it seemed Kirk knew Spock’s schedule well enough to find an unavoidable date every single time.

Secondly, Spock had requested a change of shifts so that he was no longer on the bridge at the same time as his captain unless absolutely necessary. In response, Kirk had simply taken the same shifts alongside him, regardless of ridiculous time periods—Spock fully realized Kirk’s stubbornness when the captain, who normally resented getting up early, agreed to take up Alpha shift four times a week just to match Spock; it was like Kirk knew exactly what his first officer was trying to do, and refused to let him get away with it.

Although avoiding the captain had clearly proven to be more difficult than expected, Spock was quite content with never bringing up the meld; he could at least remain his physical distance from Kirk, making sure there were multiple steps between them at all times and ducking out of any and all touches Kirk had grown used to giving his first officer.

When Spock was making his way down to the science labs one evening with the plan of checking on the ensigns currently at work there, he was surprised to see Kirk step into the turbolift with him. He’d been under the assumption that the captain would already be asleep by now to prepare for tomorrow’s Alpha shift.

“Evening, Mr. Spock.” Kirk’s usual smile was plastered on his face. Spock merely inclined his head in response to the greeting, keeping his eyes focused in front of him. He could see Kirk staring at him for a long while before letting out a soft sigh and finally looking away.

The turbolift whirred softly, but other than that there was only silence as the two made their way towards their respective floors. Spock could almost feel the captain’s tension in the air around them and he found himself staring at the little number above the lift, waiting for it to reach his deck with a little less patience than usual.

“Spock, can I ask you something?” Kirk asked suddenly. Spock noticed he’d finally dropped the honorific.

“Of course, captain.”

Kirk was looking at him again and Spock resisted the urge to turn, even as Kirk let out another sigh before speaking. “I want your opinion on my captaincy.”

“Sir?” Spock finally turned to look at Kirk, but only because he’d been surprised at the captain’s request. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Kirk looked relieved now that he’d turned.

“In your opinion, how have I been doing as the Enterprise’s captain?” he rephrased, looking at Spock with an expression that was more serious than Spock had seen on him before. It was a little unsettling to see him as anything other than laid-back and relaxed.

Spock had no idea where the question had come from; was there a certain answer that Kirk was expecting from him? As far as Spock knew, it wasn’t like Kirk to suddenly doubt his abilities as captain of the Enterprise and nothing he had said or done had indicated as such.

“The reports I have send you clearly show your outstanding captaincy thus far,” Spock said, and as soon as his words had left his lips he knew that it wasn’t the answer Kirk had wanted to hear.

The captain shrugged, “I don’t really care for statistics.”

For some reason, that annoyed Spock.

“That annoys you,” Kirk laughed gently. Spock tried not to show his surprise at Kirk’s correct observation, but couldn’t quite stop himself from raising an eyebrow.

The turbolift finally slowed to a halt, the computer’s voice indicating, ‘Deck two, Science Labs.’ Spock looked at his captain in silent question. Kirk nodded and gestured for him to go ahead, but when Spock left the turbolift Kirk followed right behind.

“I’m asking you,” he continued, “because I want your personal opinion, not the statistics.”

Spock tried to recall a time where a superior officer had asked for his personal opinion on them, only to realize that it had not occurred before. As a Vulcan, he’d only learned to go off statistics and facts, not mere emotions and personal preference. It was an illogical thing to ask of him.

Yet Kirk was looking at him expectantly, awaiting his first officer’s answer as they walked towards the science labs side by side.

“Based on your performance so far, I believe you to be a responsible and adequate captain,” Spock said truthfully. “You have an impressive way of communicating with the crew and earning their trust.”

Kirk regarded Spock for a moment longer before finally looking away, letting out a long hum. “Then I wonder why yours is so hard to earn.”

“Mine, captain?” Spock asked.

“Your trust.”

When the two reached the main science lab, Kirk stopped in front of the entrance; Spock took that as a sign to stop before going in as well.

“If there’s anything I’ve done that has offended you-” Kirk started, but Spock quickly cut him off.

“It’s no such thing, captain.”

Kirk seemed a little taken aback at the abrupt interruption, and Spock was about to apologize before the captain spoke again, “Then would you mind explaining why you’re constantly trying to avoid me?”

Spock had been fine avoiding the subject all-together, but he recognized that in this case, avoiding it any longer would cause a decrease in ship functionality; the captain had, for some surely illogical reason, assumed that he was the cause for Spock’s sudden distance, and this belief had a 93.857 percent chance of lowering the captain’s confidence. The Enterprise and its crew depended on a confident leader.

The two stared each other down while Spock thought of a respectful way to explain the situation, but Kirk suddenly let out a sound of realization, asking, “It’s the mind meld, isn’t it?”

Hoping was illogical, but yet a small part of Spock had so illogically hoped that Kirk hadn’t realized their touch initiated a meld back on that class M planet. Not many Terrans knew of Vulcans’ touch-telepathy; it was unfortunate that Kirk wasn’t one of them.

Spock nodded once, explaining, “Mind melds are highly inappropriate—a serious breach of privacy, especially when started without full knowledge and consent by both parties involved. Although it had not been my intention to start one with you, I cannot deny one formed between us, even if just for a fraction of a second.”

“Spock.” Kirk sighed. “I already told you not to worry about it. You didn’t offend me and I’m not upset about it.”

Spock simply resumed his explanation, “To prevent one from forming again due to my inability to control them, I have deduced that distance is the only reliable solution.”

“I disagree with your logic,” Kirk said instantly.

It seemed like the captain was honest in his remark, so Spock waited for a moment longer before saying, “Please elaborate.”

“By deciding to distance yourself from me you risk the trust and friendship between the captain and first officer,” Kirk said, once again smiling kindly. “A truly reliable solution would be one where the ship’s performance doesn’t suffer.”

Spock wanted to show Kirk the statistics to prove that, even now that Spock saw his captain 37.842 percent less, the ship’s performance had not suffered any significant amount that could be explained by something as trivial as the change in relationship between the captain and first officer. However, based on Kirk’s previous statement about his general (and highly illogical) preference of opinions over statistics, Spock knew it would be a futile attempt.

“May I suggest a better solution?” Kirk asked, and before Spock could answer he’d continued, “I officially give you permission to mind meld with me, so you can stop worrying about doing so accidentally.”

As much as it annoyed Spock to admit it, that was indeed the more reliable solution of the two.

“I do not feel worry,” Spock began, and he could see Kirk’s smile widen. “But your logic is sound.”

“Great! Now can we please go back to our usual shifts? I’m not a morning person.”


	4. Chapter 4

“ _First Officer’s Log, Stardate_ _1672.9. The Enterprise’s scanners have located something amiss, but is yet unable to fully identify the threat. We are awaiting word from Chief Engineer Scott.”_

_-_

A starship could not avoid danger forever. Spock knew that the day would come where the Enterprise and her crew would be tested on their ability to handle a dangerous and potentially life-threatening mission, yet when the day in question arrived, Spock realized that a crew could never truly be prepared for such an occurrence. Not even a million versions of the Kobayashi Maru could prepare one for facing a seemingly unwinnable situation in real life.

As previous first officer of Pike, incidents like these weren’t new to Spock. In fact, he’d faced a life or death situation on his first day on a starship (which just so happened to be the Enterprise, under Captain April’s command) back when he was 18 years old. Obviously, he’d made it through all of them thus far, but that didn’t grant him any reassurance.

The U.S.S. Enterprise had been ambushed and boarded by a group of Klingons who, according to their own words, acted separate from the Klingon Empire. Spock and Kirk had been lucky that the Enterprise’s scanners had been upgraded, for she had alerted them of the cloaked bird-of-prey soon enough for them to act accordingly; the bridge crew had signalled for red alert, located the ship’s breach as soon as the first Klingon troops had beamed aboard, and temporarily blocked the Klingons’ transporters.

For the first time since becoming captain of the Enterprise, Kirk hadn’t sent both himself and his first officer on the same dangerous mission, and although endangering both highest ranked officers on the ship remained an illogical decision, this time Spock wished his captain had made it anyway.

Instead, Spock was currently making his way down to the armoury with Lieutenant Sulu and Lieutenant Commander McCoy, while the captain was on his way to the hangar deck (where most Klingons had beamed aboard) with Lieutenant Uhura and Ensign Chekov in an attempt to negotiate. It was an attempt that they already knew would fail, hence why Spock, Sulu and McCoy were in charge of securing the armoury before it could be taken by the Klingons.

Naturally, Spock had objected to the idea of the captain knowingly putting himself in grave danger, but he wasn’t in the position to disobey direct orders. There was logic in Kirk’s current plan—while he distracted the Klingons, Spock and his team would have enough time to get to the armoury, properly arm themselves against this ambush, rally the security team and retake the bridge that would no doubt be captured in the time of their absence. Despite this logic, Spock would’ve preferred any different plan.

A more preferable plan, for example, would’ve been one in which Spock placed himself in danger rather than Kirk.

“We’re here. Starting negotiations now,” Kirk’s voice sounded from Spock’s communicator, who lifted it instantly.

“Be careful, captain,” he reminded him. Kirk laughed.

“When am I not?”

The armoury came into sight, and Sulu shared an apprehensive look with McCoy before bravely taking the lead. When the doors opened before him, his shoulders visibly slacked in relief; the armoury was still empty and devoid of Klingon troops.

The Enterprise’s security force was already present, as McCoy had previously requested to meet them here, and Spock instantly made his way towards Lieutenant Commander Flynn.

“Several Klingon troops have beamed aboard the Enterprise,” Spock explained, as Flynn would know of the red alert but have no knowledge of the situation itself. “The captain is currently keeping them distracted, so that we will have time to prepare for the attack and secure the bridge.”

Flynn muttered a swearword and searched for eye-contact with Sulu, perhaps to confirm that Spock was speaking the truth. Why she had reason to distrust Spock, the Vulcan didn’t know, but it was not of any importance in the current situation.

As chief of security on the Enterprise, Lieutenant Commander Flynn was first to be updated on any and all situations regarding the safety of the ship and its crew. She’d been first to come to mind for both Spock and the captain, and her assistance in handling this situation was of utmost importance in the captain’s plan; Spock would almost say he was relieved to see she was present and unharmed as of yet.

“Spock, are ye there? Come in,” Scotty’s heavily accented voice rang from Spock’s communicator. The Vulcan quickly excused himself from the conversation, Sulu picking up on the explanations to Flynn, and flipped open his communicator.

“Spock here.”

“Sir, I canna reach the captain,” Scott spoke, “An’ the bridge has fallen to the Klingons.”

Less time than predicted, yet still following Kirk’s plan. Now that the bridge had been taken, the Klingons would make an attempt at the armoury as well; it was to the Enterprise’s advantage that they’d gotten here first.

“Is the captain’s signal still online?” Spock asked.

“Aye, Sir.”

This time, Spock allowed himself to feel relief. “Then we resume as planned. Keep the doors to the engine room locked. Spock out.”

Meanwhile, Sulu had explained both the situation and the plan to Flynn and her security team, who seemed to have gotten increasingly more angered as the conversation went on.

“The bridge has been taken,” Spock announced. “Retaking it is our current priority.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Flynn asked. She reached over to the weapon’s rack, grabbing a pair of dual pistols and adding them to her standard issue phaser on her belt. “What are the orders?”

“Set to stun,” Spock responded instantly. Even Kirk’s general hatred towards Klingons hadn’t given them reason to respond with fatal weaponry.

Unfortunately, part of the security team had to stay behind to keep the armoury safe from Klingon advances, but Spock still found himself backed by six others (including Sulu, McCoy, and Flynn) as he made his way towards the bridge. Kirk’s plan had been to regroup there and, if his team hadn’t made it away from the hangar deck, to retake the bridge without them and worry about them later. Time was of the essence as Scott could not stop the Klingons from beaming aboard forever; if they could retake the bridge, Scott could work on fully restoring the failed shields and halting further Klingon support from beaming over.

“Dammit Jim, where are you?” McCoy muttered when they’d reached the turbolift towards the bridge. The captain was nowhere in sight, neither were Chekov and Uhura, and Spock couldn’t quite ignore the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

As the doors to the turbolift opened, however, Spock could hear loud footsteps coming from the corridor behind them, and as he turned, he spotted Uhura and Chekov running towards them.

“Where’s the captain?” he asked instantly, and tensed at the sad expression on Lieutenant Uhura’s face.

It took Uhura a few tries to find her voice, both from apparent exhaustion (perhaps from a battle, or simply from having run here from the hangar deck) and Spock bit back a remark for her to hurry up.

“Kirk got shot,” she breathed.

“What?!” McCoy exclaimed at the same time Spock asked, “Where is he?”

Chekov seemed to realize Uhura’s distress, because he placed a hand on her shoulder and took over.

“He ordered us to give you back-up,” he said quickly. His accent was less profound when he was anxious, it seemed. “Said retaking the bridge is priority.”

McCoy basically radiated anger. “Priority my ass.”

Although he would never admit it, Spock’s thoughts were somewhat the same (less vulgar, perhaps, but still similar in content).

“Doctor McCoy and I will return to the hangar deck,” Spock decided quickly. “Uhura, Chekov, join the security team in retaking the bridge.”

From the corner of his eyes, Spock could see McCoy giving him a look of utter disbelief, but both Uhura and Chekov only seemed relieved at Spock’s decision, readily following the security team into the turbolift (although Chekov did turn a shade paler).

Spock handed Uhura the extra weapons he’d grabbed from the armoury. “Comm Scott once you’ve retaken the bridge. He’ll know what to do.”

Uhura nodded once and then the turbolift doors closed, leaving McCoy and Spock in the abandoned corridor together. With one shared look, they quickly started making their way down towards the shuttlebay.

“Going against the captain’s orders,” McCoy spoke eventually. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“The captain has ordered Uhura and Chekov to provide back-up. He did not, however, clarify an order that we weren’t to go back for him,” Spock said matter-of-factly, but he saw a certain glimmer in the doctor’s eyes that he’d never seen before. There was a mutual understanding between them that both of them would’ve made this decision regardless of orders.

The corridors seemed much more barren and lifeless now, with the usual Enterprise’s crew in hiding from the Klingons and said Klingons nowhere in sight; they were most likely fighting for the armoury, if not all on the bridge.

“Spock, I’m not complaining, but is the decision to go back for the captain a logical one?” McCoy asked when the hangar deck came in sight.

Spock remained silent for a long moment, pondering, and eventually was only able to respond with, “I... do not know.”

He wondered if he would’ve made the same decision had Pike still been captain.

The shuttlebay was abandoned apart from two Klingon warriors, who were easily incapacitated by McCoy and Spock’s phasers; they hadn’t even had time to turn around to investigate the sound of them entering the room before they were stunned.

“The hangar deck is huge,” McCoy said, having taken out his tricorder. “It will be extremely difficult to find-”

“Bones, is that you?”

Spock and McCoy shared a quick look before rushing in the direction of Kirk’s voice, which had sounded unsettlingly weak. They found him sitting behind some crates, staring blankly ahead of him with one hand pressed to his side; he was covered in blood.

“Jesus, Jim,” McCoy exclaimed, quickly crouching at his side and investigating the captain’s wounds. “From all your terrible plans, this is your worst so far.”

Kirk laughed weakly, followed by an aggressive coughing fit that had him wincing in pain. He looked at the doctor at his side, lazily blinking his eyes while waiting for them to focus, but Spock could see that they weren’t going to.

“Doctor, he’s losing strength,” Spock noted.

“I can see that, Spock,” McCoy snapped, grabbing a hypostray from his belt and injecting it in Kirk’s shoulder. The captain didn’t even seem to notice. “Dammit, I need him in sickbay.”

Sickbay was a long way from the hangar deck, and the medical crew had locked themselves in their quarters on the captain’s orders, meaning Spock would have to comm them all separately, wait for them to grab a stretcher from sickbay, and then have them make their way here and back; Spock didn’t need to be a medical officer to know they didn’t have the time for that.

Not currently, anyway.

Spock basically ripped his communicator off his belt, speaking a message to all members of the medical team and ordering them to make their way here with haste.

From in front of him, McCoy offered him a glance, “Please tell me you have a plan.”

“I believe I do.”

Spock had never tried it himself, but knew it was possible through stories and experiences from the Vulcan Elders, and as he moved to Kirk’s side he pushed back all uncertainty—this was the only option they had to save the captain’s life.

Placing his hand on the side of Kirk’s face, Spock took a slow breath to steady himself before starting a mind meld.

“My strength to yours. My will to yours,” he muttered ever so quietly, reminding himself of what he was doing. He focused on not intruding into Kirk’s mind, instead only allowing the bond to offer him strength and project reassurance; he could hear Kirk’s breathing even out.

“Spock?”

“I’m here, captain.”

McCoy had taken out his tricorder again, aiming it at Kirk’s face with his mouth agape; Spock was uncertain whether the doctor was aware he was mumbling to himself.

“I don’t know what you’re doing but it’s working,” he spoke eventually.

The communicator at Spock’s belt beeped and he wordlessly handed it to McCoy, otherwise keeping his full focus on the meld.

“Scotty, come in,” the doctor responded. Spock tried to tune out his voice but was unsuccessful.

“You dinna sound like Spock,” came Scott’s response.

“Spock’s.. a little busy.” McCoy glanced at the Vulcan next to him. “Did the security team retake the bridge?”

“Aye, an’ the shields are back online. The Klingons canna beam over any longer.”

At that moment, the doors to the hangar deck opened loudly. Spock didn’t turn to look but judging from McCoy’s reaction to stand up and wave his arms it must’ve been the medical team at last. Footsteps approached him and he felt a hand touch his shoulder before it was hastily removed.

“Don’t touch him,” McCoy snapped. “Work around him.”

While the team starting waving medical equipment above the captain and addressed the deep gash in his side, Spock’s hand remained on Kirk’s face, keeping them connected. It was taking all of his concentration to keep the meld strong, but he knew his captain relied on it; Spock could feel his own emotions seep through the meld and decided that shielding himself wasn’t his priority—as long as he could give Kirk his strength, the captain had a higher probability of surviving.

McCoy was keeping careful track of Kirk’s vital signs with his tricorder and he eventually leaned forward to administer another hypospray. Kirk’s eyes slowly fluttered closed and McCoy let out a deep breath in relief. “Stabilizing.”

“We should get him to medical,” a member of the team spoke, giving Spock a hesitant glance.

“It’s okay, Spock,” McCoy said. “We got him.”

Albeit reluctantly, Spock severed the link between him and Kirk, backing off to give the medical team space to work. They gently moved him over onto a stretcher and instantly started moving him towards medical. McCoy and Spock shared another glance before following suit.

“Doctor, my communicator?” Spock held out his hand and McCoy quickly returned the device to its rightful owner.

“Spock to bridge.”

A short silence before there was a response. “Uhura here.”

Spock was still following the stretcher through the ship’s corridors, but when the medical team stepped into the turbolift he stayed behind. McCoy gave him an understanding nod as the turbolift doors closed. With Kirk momentarily incapacitated, Spock was acting captain; he knew he was expected on the bridge to round up this situation.

“I’m making my way to the bridge,” he told the communications officer. “I expect a full update on the situation upon my arrival.”

“What about the captain?” Uhura asked, failing to respond to his request. The worry in her voice was unmistakable, which is why Spock decided to forgive her lack of formality. He took the next turbolift, quickly stepping inside.

“The captain is in sickbay,” Spock continued. He heard Uhura relay the message to the rest of the crew on the bridge, and before she could give Spock a response, the turbolift arrived.

As soon as Spock stepped onto the bridge, all eyes turned to him. None of the crew members were at their stations, instead clustered together around the captain’s chair; when they’d noticed Spock they took their stations again.

Apart from some obvious damage to some of the equipment on the bridge, including a big crack in the screen of Spock’s own console, there didn’t appear to be much damage in the aftermath of what must’ve been a tense battle; none of the bridge crew appeared to be wounded, apart from some scratches and bruises.

“The Klingons are locked in the brig,” Uhura answered Spock’s unspoken question. “I’ve just received message that the armoury is secured as well, and the Bird-of-Prey has left the system.”

“Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet and update them on our situation. Now that Scott has restored the Enterprise’s shields, our communication should no longer be jammed,” Spock ordered. (Uhura nodded and turned away to focus on her console). “And Lieutenant Sulu, bring us to the nearest starbase, warp 6. The Enterprise is not meant to carry prisoners so we will drop them off there.”

“Understood, Sir,” Sulu responded, seemingly just happy to be behind his station again.

Spock sat down in the captain’s chair, not quite able to shrug off the anxiety he was still feeling. As the Enterprise entered warp drive, even the sight of the passing stars on the main viewscreen didn’t calm him down like it usually did.

Although, the sight of captain Kirk in his command chair was usually what reassured him most.


	5. Chapter 5

“ _Acting Captain’s Log, Stardate 1689.6. Our Klingon prisoners have been transferred to Starbase 96 and the Enterprise has set course for Earth’s spacedock for a second debrief with Admiral Nogura; at the time of our arrival, Captain Kirk will have made a full recovery—as is predicted by doctor McCoy—and he will partake in the debriefing to clarify his side of the events.”_

_-_

Spock decided he strongly preferred his usual position as XO over acting captain, as whenever an important decision came up, he habitually looked around for Kirk before realizing that the call was his to make. It wasn’t like he lacked authority under the pressure of responsibility—he’d gotten so used to having a captain at his side that he simply struggled to readjust.

The debriefing of the Klingon ambush was uneventful, which Spock knew he should be grateful for but it just left him missing Kirk’s presence more. Spock never thought he’d say this, but official debriefings lacked a certain charm without the captain complaining every few seconds and making pouty faces at his first officer when the admirals weren’t looking.

Kirk had been confined to sickbay for a week, having awoken somewhere during his fourth day. Spock had yet to visit him, but it wasn’t a lie to say he’d been buried in paperwork, debriefs, logs and duties as acting captain.

Today, however, on Kirk’s sixth day in McCoy’s sickbay, Spock finally found the time to check on his captain.

“Spock,” McCoy greeted him upon entry, looking positively surprised at his presence; Spock swore the doctor smiled at him for only a millisecond before his usual scowled mask fell over his expression once more.

“Doctor.” Spock inclined his head. “I trust the captain is in good health?”

McCoy nodded somewhere behind Spock, and when the Vulcan turned to look, he spotted Kirk sitting straight in a medical bed, eyes focused on his PADD in his hands. One of his legs was bouncing up and down restlessly; he showed all signs of being back to his usual self.

“You saved his life, you know?” McCoy said, mumbling as if hesitant to say the words. “Thank you.”

Spock couldn’t think of a response in time, for McCoy had almost instantly turned his attention towards another of his patients. Spock took this as permission to talk to Kirk.

The captain was focused intently on his PADD; he didn’t notice Spock for exactly 4.87 seconds, finally glancing up when he realized a Spock-shaped shadow had fallen over him. His radiant smile warmed Spock’s heart, and for the first time since he’d been forced to take up the role as acting captain he felt himself relax.

“Spock!” Kirk exclaimed. “I was starting to think the debriefings had killed you.”

“I do admit that mission debriefings can be quite uneventful,” Spock admitted, to which Kirk’s smile widened.

The captain lowered his PADD, putting it down on his medical bed; Spock glanced at the screen and realized Kirk had been reading through Spock’s reports and logs from the past week. It was a wise decision to stay updated on the ship’s welfare during a forced medical leave.

Doctor McCoy reappeared, medical equipment in hand. He placed a little case on the end of Kirk’s bed, next to the abandoned PADD, and flipped it open.

“Still feeling that headache of yours?” McCoy asked suspiciously.

“I’m fine, Bones,” Kirk said, right as the doctor injected him with a hypospray. “Ouch!”

“Quit whining,” McCoy said, glancing at Spock next to him. “And you stop looking at me like I’m your mortal enemy for treating my patient.”

Spock had not noticed his expression change into one of anger, but he quickly focused on keeping it neutral once more, averting his gaze while the doctor worked on giving Kirk more anaesthetics.

“Thanks for deciding to come back for me, Bones,” Kirk suddenly spoke up, looking at the doctor with a smile.

“Actually, you don’t have me to thank,” McCoy spoke, not lifting his eyes from his medical case. “It was all the robot’s idea.”

Kirk looked very confused for a second before realizing it was one of the doctors illogical insults towards Spock, his expression changing to one of honest surprise. Spock had to remind himself that surprise was the logical response; it did not mean personal offence.

“It seems you’ve saved me twice already,” Kirk laughed. When he noticed the tilt of Spock’s head and the raise of an eyebrow, he clarified, “Bones told me about what happened. Good thing I’ve given you permission to meld with me, huh?”

“Indeed.” Although Spock did not say he most likely would have performed the meld without the captain’s direct permission—to save Kirk’s life, he’d do the same under different circumstances, even if said circumstances endangered Spock’s career.

After injecting Kirk with one final hypospray, McCoy closed the medical case once more. “We arrive at Spacedock in two days. You’re not leaving my sickbay until then, understood?”

Kirk looked like he was about to complain, but one look from McCoy changed his mind. Instead, he settled on just pouting at McCoy’s back as the doctor left to attend to other patients.

Spock’s communicator beeped. He didn’t have to check to know it was a message from Lieutenant Uhura to remind him of the start of his shift, as he’d asked her to do before leaving the bridge.

“I’m afraid I am needed elsewhere,” he spoke, politely inclining his head. “I am gratified to see you recovering well.”

Spock had already turned away when a hand on his arm stopped him. It wasn’t a grip to physically hold him back, but a touch light enough that Spock had barely even noticed it, just to get his attention. He turned back immediately.

“Is there something else you need, captain?” he asked. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Kirk looked embarrassed.

“Call me Jim, please? Captain sounds so formal,” Kirk said quickly. “And actually, yes. I wanted to ask you something.”

Spock nodded to tell him to continue.

Kirk seemed to think about his words carefully, which was unusual as he tended to speak before thinking most of the time. Spock’s hands were clasped behind his back while he waited patiently for a response.

“You were worried,” he said eventually, his voice quiet as if telling Spock a secret.

“Pardon?”

“Back on the hangar deck, you were worried, and scared. I could feel it through the meld,” he explained. He looked at Spock with an expression the Vulcan couldn’t place. “Do Vulcans usually feel fear?”

Spock had already opened his mouth to respond, but lacked the proper words. He could remind his captain that, as a half-human, openly feeling fear wasn’t completely impossible, but for a reason he could not yet explain he decided not to. As Spock slowly closed his mouth again, a silence passed over the two.

“Thank you, Spock,” Kirk eventually spoke, respecting the Vulcan’s lack of response. He reached out to place a hand on Spock’s shoulder. “I owe you my life.”

Both of them decided to ignore the spark that had once again ignited at the contact, but Spock could see that Kirk was mirroring his blush.


	6. Chapter 6

“ _First Officer’s Log, Stardate 1812.0. The Captain has returned to his duties once more and is currently going through debrief with Admiral Nogura. Meanwhile, the Enterprise remains docked at Earth’s spacedock while we await our next orders._

“ _I’ve come to realize that, while my meld succeeded in saving the captain’s life, it did come with several side-effects. I am able to sense the captain’s emotions when he is in close proximity, as well as feel certain strong reactions even if the distance between us is much greater. I will make sure it does not hinder my ability to serve as science officer and XO._

“ _It is odd, however, that the bond is as strong as it is. A bond with this intensity is not usually formed with merely one or two mind melds, and I have no explanation for it’s strength. If it does not lessen in the following months, I will be forced to consult a Vulcan specialist to have it removed.”_

_-_

It was odd. The bond was so strong in Spock’s mind that he often confused his captain’s emotions with his own; the only assurance he had that they weren’t was Kirk himself, who never failed to clearly show his emotions with his expressions and actions. Whenever Spock felt a surge of anxiety, he’d look over to see the captain pacing behind his chair; a surge of happiness, the captain was speaking to McCoy, laughing about something the doctor had said. Spock wasn’t used to suddenly feeling so strongly.

More importantly, the bond didn’t seem deterred by distance—at least, not as much as it should. Even as Spock was working in the science lab, he’d be hit randomly by emotions that weren’t his own, yet when he asked the computer, it let him know Kirk was still on the bridge; multiple decks away from him. Spock had heard of bonds strong enough to range galaxies, but those were official bonds, placed during koon-ut-la between a betrothed couple. Spock’s own official bond had been broken long ago, but that should not explain the ease with which the one with Kirk had formed, nor did it make the strength of it any more logical.

Spock wasn’t certain whether Kirk was aware of this bond. With humans’ own erratic emotions, noticing the presence of another mind was no easy feat; Spock’s mother had compared it to the feeling of a warm hug or (when her bondmate’s emotions were negative) like a heavy weight was always resting on her shoulders. It was barely noticeable to her until she had fully learned of its meaning and importance.

Professionally speaking, Spock should notify his captain of the bond’s existence. Yet Spock could not explain his reluctance to do so.

It was well into the night and Spock was meditating—he didn’t require sleep for another 21 hours, so he’d decided to spend it trying to better differentiate his own mind from Kirk’s. He was abruptly shaken out of it when a jolt of fear shot through him.

His eyes were open instantly, scanning his quarters for any intruder to have set off a self-defence reaction like this but finding no one; he was still alone. The only door in the room was locked, meaning not a single crew member could enter without his permission (apart from the captain, of course, who had an override command for every room on the ship) so it wasn’t a surprise that there weren’t any intruders.

Kirk’s emotion, then. Spock quickly checked the time (0230) and wondered what had kept the captain awake at a time like this, especially with such a strong emotional reaction. He listened closely (Kirk’s quarters were conveniently located right next to his own) and soon enough, there was movement in the room next to him—a soft hiss as the doors to Kirk’s quarters opened and the sound of footsteps as the captain walked down the corridor.

The fear seemed to linger, even when Kirk had supposedly made his way to somewhere else on the ship. Spock had tried, and failed, to go back to meditating; he realized that Kirk’s fear was this constant throbbing in the back of his head, and made his heart feel heavy.

Making the decision to check on Kirk was easy; finding him was even easier. The bond navigated Spock though the Enterprise’s corridors, and he could feel it getting stronger as he walked. It led him to deck three and when he entered the ship’s recreation room, he spotted Kirk instantly, sitting at a table with a cup in his hands. When Spock slowly moved closer he realized it was coffee.

“Captain?” Spock called out carefully.

Kirk startled visibly, nearly knocking over his cup in the meanwhile, his hand pressed over his heart.

“Spock, you scared the living shit out of me!” he exclaimed, taking some deep breaths and wisely pushing his coffee slightly out of his reach.

“I apologize, captain. That was not my intention,” Spock said.

A smile found its way onto Kirk’s features, yet Spock could still feel his fear and anxiety through the bond; it was the first time Kirk’s expression failed to match his emotions.

“Mind if I sit with you, captain?” Spock asked politely. The emotions rushing through Kirk’s head made little sense to him and he didn’t want to intrude upon his captain if he wished to be alone.

“How many times do I have to remind you, it’s Jim,” Kirk laughed. “And of course, I will never reject your company.”

Spock took a seat while Kirk grabbed his coffee again and took a big sip, glancing around the abandoned recreation room. Spock had to admit that it was slightly unsettling to see it so devoid of life—the only times he was here was for his habitual chess matches with Kirk, but even then the room was crowded with crew members. Now it was just him and the captain, without the chess set placed between them.

“What brings you here this time a night?” Kirk asked eventually, presumably to fill the silence.

Spock regarded the captain for a moment. “I could ask you the same, Jim.”

“Good point,” Kirk said, smile growing at the mention of his name. Spock was starting to hate the captain’s anxiety still pushing at him from the back of his mind. It was illogical and didn’t match Kirk’s demeanour. Spock checked the time again (0315) and wondered how Kirk seemed so awake while humans needed sleep every day to function optimally.

“Are you alright, Spock?”

When Spock looked back at his captain, he realized he’d been frowning; he closed his eyes for a moment and recollected himself, letting his face relax once more. He opened his eyes again and, looking into Kirk’s confused face, he realized that he should no longer withhold the information about the bond between them.

“Captain-”

“ _Jim_.”

“Jim,” Spock corrected. “There is something I must confess.”

The captain’s expression instantly turned anxious, better matching his emotions but unsettling Spock nonetheless. Spock had realized long ago that, while Kirk’s smile calmed him, any negative expression made him anxious.

“It is possible for a mind meld to leave a lingering effect. It is not entirely a rare occasion, for melds are performed with great focus and intention, but for the effects to be significant the two minds involved need to be compatible. It seems that our minds are an example of this,” Spock explained as Kirk gradually started looking more confused. “I believe a bond has formed between us.”

“A bond?” Kirk asked, although his cheeks had gotten a considerable amount redder.

“It is a telepathic link between our minds.”

Kirk gaped at Spock for a long moment, like the words were taking a while to reach him. He was still blushing, and Spock tried to sense if he was uncomfortable now that he knew this information. Instead of discomfort, however, Spock could only sense.. hope? Anticipation?

“Wait, does that mean you can read my mind?” Kirk asked nervously.

Spock quickly shook his head, “It does not. I can, however, sense your emotions quite well.”

Realization seemed to dawn on Kirk instantly, and Spock was nearly overwhelmed by his sudden embarrassment. The captain ran a hand through his hair and released a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m so sorry, Spock,” he said softly. “It must be bothering you.”

Spock was surprised at the apology. He hadn’t meant for Kirk to feel guilty, nor had he expected it, yet Kirk looked sincerely regretful.

“It is not. I was merely concerned for your well-being,” Spock admitted.

Kirk stared at him for a moment and sighed again. “Ah, so that’s why you’re here?”

“Indeed.”

Kirk seemed reluctant to talk about what happened earlier this night to have caused such a spike in his emotions, now having turned his eyes to the empty cup in his hands. Eventually, he asked, “Did I wake you?”

“I was meditating at the time,” Spock responded.

Another silence passed over the two, and Kirk visibly shook himself out of his thoughts, finally looking back at his first officer. Spock couldn’t help but feel relieved when a familiar smile found its way on Kirk’s face.

“Thank you for worrying,” he said gently. “I was having a nightmare, nothing serious.”

There was a hint of finality to his tone, so Spock simply nodded, not pushing the subject further. Kirk’s smile grew the tiniest bit wider at that, and the anxiety in Kirk’s mind was now accompanied with curiosity; Spock took that as a positive sign.

“This bond you speak of,” Kirk spoke. “I don’t feel it at all.”

Spock raised his hand, letting it hover just above where Kirk’s hand was resting on the table. “May I?”

Kirk nodded instantly. Ever so lightly, Spock touched the top of Kirk’s hand, focusing on the bond. Slowly, he let some of his mental shields drop, allowing part of his emotions through—most specifically, the concern he was currently feeling for Kirk.

“Oh?” Kirk exclaimed, looking at Spock in surprise. “I do feel it.”

“Correct.”

Kirk was a lot easier to read with the bond, which is why Spock recognized the captain’s astonishment instantly. Spock was a bit taken aback, especially when Kirk exclaimed, “That’s amazing!”

It seemed that wasn’t the only surprising response of the night, as right when Spock started to pull away Kirk suddenly reached out to keep Spock’s hand in place, prodding at the bond gently and his eyes focused on their hands. Spock found himself speechless and a blush seared through his cheeks.

When Kirk looked back up, he grinned (he had no doubt spotted the sudden green shade on the Vulcan’s face) and Spock felt a surge of confidence from his captain.

“Tell me, Spock, can you feel this?” he asked quietly, the smile never leaving his face. At first, Spock was uncertain what Kirk was referring to, but then it hit him all at once, a force of emotions so strong that it was clear Kirk had no idea how to shield his mind at all.

Love, adoration, excitement, anticipation, hope; including emotions that were conflicting and yet seemingly still fit together well.

It was unlike anything Spock had ever felt, which is why he couldn’t think of an appropriate response.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Kirk pulled away from Spock’s hand, his confidence fading along with the honesty behind his smile. Spock opened his mouth, but still could not find the correct words. Kirk nodded, as if to say, ‘I understand’, and stood from his chair.

“Anyway, thank you for your company. I’m going to try to get some shut-eye before tomorrow’s shift,” he said, eyes averted. He was smiling and came across as laid-back as ever, but the sadness and disappointment Spock could feel through the bond were clear as day.

Without another word, Kirk walked out of the recreation room. Spock felt his captain’s negative emotions for the rest of the night.


	7. Chapter 7

For the first time since he started serving on the U.S.S. Enterprise, Spock did not know how to log the events of the past few days. Luckily, there were no drastic missions that required an official report, so he allowed himself to leave the first officer’s log to a later stardate.

Spock had not spoken to his captain since that one night in the recreation room. In fact, if Spock were to use a common Terran metaphor, it seemed the tables had turned—Kirk had taken to avoiding Spock and always maintaining distance between them, and even during their chess matches the captain seemed distracted; their matches had drastically shortened in length due to how quickly Kirk was suddenly defeated.

He felt that Kirk was attempting to block their bond, and it left this empty ache in the back of his mind—a constant reminder of the current situation.

Because of reasons that were entirely logical, Spock had no experience to prepare him for a situation like this. He was aware that Kirk had confessed his romantic feelings that night, but it was so unexpected—and dare he say, surreal—that even now Spock had not yet thought of a correct response.

Shore leave had never been particularly interesting to Spock. He didn’t have much family to reconnect with (especially not on earth, which is where they were docked once more) and he’d always preferred spending these periods of unnecessary free-time in the ship’s science labs. He couldn’t recall the last shore leave he’d spend away from his beloved lab.

This time, however, he’d decided to join Lieutenant Uhura and Chief Engineer Scott (to their complete astonishment) on their planned trip to the beach in San Francisco (Baker Beach, located near Starfleet Academy). A certain captain had planned to meet them there, but was yet unaware of Spock’s unexpected decision to join. Spock hoped this would grant him the opportunity to talk to him at last.

Luckily, the weather was pleasant. It was still much colder than Spock was used to on his Vulcan home-planet, but it was summer on earth, which meant Uhura spent the entire trip complaining about how she was suffocating in her jeans; it did not help that the short-distance city shuttle they were using didn’t have a functioning cooling system.

The three arrived at the Academy (where they’d promised to meet up with Captain Kirk) exactly 12.84 minutes behind schedule, but it seemed not to matter as Kirk was currently engrossed in a conversation with a small crowd of cadets. Spock took a moment to observe—Kirk was laughing and playfully patting a young man’s shoulder, his happiness strong in the back of Spock’s mind.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” the captain was saying. “I took the test three times and eventually cheated my way though it, but it’s meant to be a no-win scenario. Act responsible and you’ll be fine.”

Uhura waved and called out to Kirk to get his attention. When he turned, his eyes found Spock’s just briefly before he turned away. The captain’s happiness diminished instantly; Spock found himself missing its warmth.

After Kirk had said his goodbyes to the cadets he made his way over to his crew. It was odd to see him in something other than his golden captain attire, although Spock had to admit black suited him just as well.

“There you are,” Kirk said casually, although the strain in his voice wasn’t quite unnoticeable. “Let’s go. I’ve seen enough of the Academy in my lifetime.”

Uhura laughed and agreed, taking Kirk’s arm and leading the way. Either Uhura and Scott didn’t notice the sudden tension between the captain and his first officer, or they’d chosen to ignore it. Or, Spock realized, perhaps the tension was only obvious through the shared bond.

“How’d the speech go?” Uhura asked. Kirk shrugged, his eyes focused on the ground as he walked. Scott had started talking to Spock, but the Vulcan wasn’t really paying him much attention.

Although Spock could only see the captain’s back from where he was walking, he could hear the smile in Kirk’s voice as he said, “Better than expected. I’d never cared much for lectures from Starfleet personnel, so I’m glad the students I talked to weren’t like me in that aspect.”

They left the Academy courtyard, heading down a small trail that Spock didn’t know existed. With every minute they walked, Kirk seemed to relax more, the tension and anxiety leaving the back of Spock’s mind. If the captain had memories here, they were good ones.

“-An’ I said ‘tis nae easy keeping her in such good shape, but he dinna listen ya see? Couldna see my hard work at all.”

While Scott ranted about his previous job on a small freighter, Spock’s eyes remained glued to the captain’s back. It seemed Spock wasn’t the only one currently uninterested in conversation, as Uhura was talking wildly while Kirk stared blankly ahead, sometimes nodding along to her words but otherwise not responding.

Baker beach wasn’t as crowded as Spock was expecting and he realized that it was most likely favoured by Academy students; said students were currently in class or participating in finals, as it was about that time of year. It seemed Spock wasn’t the only one relieved at this realization.

Uhura whistled, “Never seen the beach this empty before!”

Spock thought about explaining the reasoning behind the lack of a crowd, but quickly decided against it—he’d learned that humans often didn’t care for logic in situations that brought them joy or relief.

It seemed that Spock’s companions knew exactly where they were going, as they followed the last bit of the trail to the beach and then abruptly turned left, heading down towards a cluster of rocks just shy of the sand. Uhura plopped down on a particularly flat-surfaced rock. Scott and Kirk followed her lead.

Hesitantly, Spock sat down in the only remaining space next to the captain. Kirk offered him little more than a glance before turning back to Scott and Uhura.

“How long has it been since we were here together?” Uhura asked with a smile, eyes focused on the water ahead of them. Spock thought it was what humans described as a rhetorical question, but he was proven wrong when Scott answered as he would a normal question.

“A verra long time,” he said, following Uhura’s gaze. “Before our graduation, aye?”

The three friends had spend all of their Academy days together. One of the reasons why Kirk had been so welcomed as captain was, after all, due to his previous friendships with many of his crew. However, unlike the three friends, Spock hadn’t been in the same Academy classes as them or anyone else currently stationed on the Enterprise; he hadn’t even been in the same year. By the time Kirk, Uhura and Scott graduated from the Academy, Spock had already been placed onboard the Enterprise.

“D’ye remember the first time we went here together?” Scott asked, smacking Kirk’s shoulder. “You couldna keep your eyes off Carol an’ she went to join us.”

Kirk laughed genuinely, a sound that seemed to finally break a bit of the tension. “Bones went off about that afterwards. Carol was like a sister to him and he couldn’t stand the thought of me and her together.”

Spock hadn’t given Kirk’s sexuality much thought, for it did not matter as long as the captain was still interested in him. He assured himself that it was a logical way of thinking. After all, he’d never given his own sexuality any thought either. He did know, however, that the thought of Kirk being with this Carol made him feel jealous—it was an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time.

While Kirk, Uhura and Scotty reminisced over past memories, Spock could do nothing but listen in like a bystander. He shared no such memories with them, so he found he had little to add to the conversation.

“What about you, Spock? What are your good memories from the Academy?” Uhura asked Spock, possibly in a polite attempt to include him in the conversation. She’d no doubt noticed how much he’d been left out of their trip thus far.

Kirk and Scott turned to him as well, so Spock answered, “I do not have any memorable moments.”

They seemed a bit surprised—perhaps there was also disappointment at his simple response—but they didn't push the subject, instead sharing a few glances and falling quiet for a moment.

“I heard the Enterprise was your first assignment,” Uhura continued after a beat. “How’d you manage that?”

Spock thought of the best way to explain the whole story without going into too much detail, but Uhura ushered him on after a moment so he simply started talking.

“The first time I went aboard the Enterprise I was merely a passenger. Due to complications on route, the ship was endangered but my plan helped save it,” he explained briefly. “I received entry to Starfleet Academy and a commendation from Captain April.”

He’d met Pike back then as well, although the man held the role of first officer rather than captain. It was only after Spock graduated that he found out about Pike’s promotion, and the man had gladly accepted Spock’s transfer.

Uhura seemed impressed by the story, whereas Scott mostly appeared confused. Kirk only smiled at him—there was no doubt in Spock’s mind that the captain had already read about this in Spock’s personal file.

Now that Spock was able to add to the conversation as well, the tension had all but disappeared, and the Vulcan allowed himself to feel relief. Perhaps it would be easier to approach Kirk now that he no longer seemed so closed off towards him.

“Hey, isna that Marcus down there?” Scott abruptly spoke up, right in the middle of one of Uhura’s tales. Everyone glanced down at the beach, where a man unknown to Spock shuffled along the beach with his hands in his pockets.

“I think it is!” Uhura said happily before calling out to him, “Hey, Marcus!”

Both Uhura and Scott quickly jumped up to make their way towards their (presumably) old friend, who was now looking up at them with a big smile. Kirk, however, remained seated, softly waving Uhura off when she looked back at him in silent question.

Spock assumed the tension would return now that Spock and Kirk were left on their own, but it seemed he was mistaken. Kirk was looking ahead at the waves, a familiar glimmer in his eyes, and for a moment Spock could not look away from him. He realized that this might be the only moment he had to talk to Kirk before he’d go back to avoiding his first officer.

“Jim, I wish to talk about what happened,” Spock said carefully. Kirk quickly turned back to him, but rather than closing off again he merely smiled—a smile that lacked its usual brightness.

“Yeah, I figured we’d have to eventually,” he said. He looked out to Uhura, Scotty and Marcus, who were far enough away to be unable to listen in on their conversation. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

“On the contrary, it is I who should apologize,” Spock said, to which Kirk shook his head.

The captain let out a deep sigh. “No, Spock. I was way out of line and acted unprofessionally. If you wish to file a report I will not stop you.”

Spock was surprised, but calmly told Kirk that he had no intention of reporting what had happened. The two fell into a silence again. Uhura’s happy laughter filled the air—a drastic difference in mood in comparison to the captain and his XO.

Honestly, it shouldn’t be this difficult, yet whenever Spock thought to have figured out a decent response he hesitated. He didn’t know exactly what he was feeling, but he did know that he desperately missed Kirk’s smiles and touches and closeness.

“I should probably say hi to Marcus,” Kirk said slowly, pushing himself up from the rock. Spock realized that his opportunity was closing.

Without thinking, he stood up and took Kirk’s arm, turning him back around. Kirk seemed a bit taken aback but had no time to respond because Spock had already captured his lips in a kiss.

Finally, the shields Kirk had been putting up broke, his emotions and thoughts flowing through their bond all at once. Spock shivered at the feeling and Kirk got over his shock long enough to kiss back, pulling his hands on Spock’s waist and pulling him closer, his relief flooding Spock’s mind.

Spock moved his hands up to cup Kirk’s cheek and in a gut decision he started a mind meld with him; this time without the imminent stress of Kirk’s death. Kirk gasped but didn’t pull away, instead deepening the kiss and moving impossibly closer, allowing their minds to entwine.

When the two finally broke apart it felt like an eternity had passed. Uhura and Scott were still talking to Marcus in the distance, seemingly not having noticed their kiss (or simply ignoring it). Either way, Spock found it hard to care, for Kirk was still in his arms, now with a bright smile on his face.

“I do feel it,” Spock repeated Kirk’s own words, hand subconsciously finding Kirk’s chest; pressed over his heart. “And the feeling is reciprocated.”

The captain laughed, a sound that flooded Spock’s heart with love, and kissed Spock again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might continue on with this story at another point but for now, this marks the end. I wanted to keep it short and simple, with an open ending that left room for your imagination, because I really only wanted to write about Spock falling in love with Kirk and his approach to it (or lack thereof). This is how I imagine them falling in love canonically would be like, so I might add to this universe at a later date. I'll make sure to make it into a series when I do. Thank you for reading, you're lovely! <3


End file.
